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Metamorphosis
Delivered by
Bruce Arnold, May 22, 2005
At the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship, New Bern, NC
First, I want to thank you all for the opportunity to speak here today. It is a delight to get to address you. Since I am new here, and have not met everyone yet, some information may be helpful. I have lived in eastern North Carolina for 12 years, and in New Bern for 10 of those. I am a clinical social worker, working in a solo private practice as a psychotherapist and clinical hypnotist. Dream interpretation, along the lines laid out by Carl Jung, form a frequent part of the treatment. I also use homeopathic remedies and flower essences to support the healing process with selected patients. I am a Quaker minister, attended seminary at Earlham College, and was pastor of a small Friends meeting in southwestern Ohio for a number of years in the mid-80s. I earned my undergraduate degree in comparative religion and philosophy, a high point in a series of intensive studies which began at the age of 13. I have had the opportunity to study under a variety of people, including Yogi Amrit Desai, Chogyam Trungpa, Chuck Prebish, Arthur Kleps, William Roe, and Joseph Nolen. My studies have ranged throughout Hinduism, Buddhism, Taoism, Judaism, Christianity, Bah’ai faith, and the western mystery tradition which includes alchemy, tarot, and qabala. Oh, let’s see: Shaolin kung fu, t’ai chi, Transcendental Meditation, kundalini yoga, Zen and Tibetan style meditation – I guess the list goes on. Perhaps that’s enough for today.
I want to talk today about metamorphosis. It’s a word that most of us learned sometime in our childhood, perhaps in a grade school science class. We all know how a caterpillar wraps itself up in a chrysalis, and later emerges as a beautiful butterfly. It is a wonderful process; truly, a miracle.
Does the caterpillar have any notion of what lies ahead? I doubt it. We can have no real conception of what form their rudimentary consciousness takes, but they are sentient beings and clearly have a sense of what is going on around them. Do they feel puzzled when they start to form into a chrysalis? Does it occur to them to wonder, after all these days or weeks of walking around munching on delicious leaves, what on earth will they eat when they are shut up like that? Do any of them suffer from claustrophobia? Do they feel a sense of loss as they say good-bye to the sunlight, the fresh air, the freedom to move?
There are other sorts of change in nature that we can observe as well. The snake that sheds its skin is not quite so dramatic as the change from caterpillar to butterfly, but just as necessary. The tadpole which turns into a frog is pretty remarkable, I think. But perhaps the most characteristic, the most dramatic, and the most cyclical of all these changes, is the one from season to season.
Year after year, we see the seasons go through their roundabout journey. From the lightness and headiness of spring, to the somnolence and ripeness of summer, to the harvest and blazing glory that is autumn, to the plain, sometimes bitter, hibernation of winter. Like the moon in its monthly orbit around the earth, or the earth careening around the sun, these are the events which mark the passage of time, in fact gave rise to the notion of time itself.
When I started thinking about what I wanted to speak on today, I turned to my old friend, the Chinese I Ching or Book of Changes. This is one of the oldest holy books in the world. In its present written form, it has been around for about 5,000 years. Commentaries have been added at times, but even those are ancient by now.
For those who are not familiar with this work, it is a series of 64 chapters. Each chapter is characterized by a figure called a hexagram. The hexagram is formed by six lines, stacked one on top of the other. Each line is either broken or unbroken. Thus, from a hexagram formed of six unbroken lines, through all the various combinations of broken and unbroken, to a hexagram formed of all broken lines, there are 64 possibilities. Chinese sages attributed meaning to the various patterns which arose, meanings which are derived from their observations of nature: the wind, the water, the lake, the mountain, and so forth. The simple interaction of these polar opposites – broken, unbroken; light, dark; masculine, feminine; strong, weak; and so forth – give rise to the message of the various chapters of the I Ching. Different chapters are associated with different events, any of which may arise over and over during the course of a lifetime.
One consults the I Ching by various methods. The best known, and simplest, is the throwing of coins. You may notice that a coin has a binary nature, just as do the lines of the hexagram: heads, tails; broken, unbroken. In its simplest form, you could use one coin. Heads could mean broken, and tails could mean unbroken. Throw it six times, and you have your hexagram. Look up that pattern, consult that chapter, you’ve got your message.
But the Chinese were not so simple as that. They recognized that nothing is static. Everything changes. Hence the title, Book of Changes. They saw that night turned into day, summer into winter, weak into strong, hot into cold. And so they incorporated this into the I Ching. By using three coins for each line, you have four possibilities. All heads, all tails, mostly heads, mostly tails. Mostly heads or mostly tails indicates a line which is not ready to change yet. The unbroken will remain unbroken. All heads or all tails indicates a line which has reached the fullness, the ripeness, of its expression, and so is primed to turn into its opposite, just as the sun at its zenith begins its journey towards the evening.
And so, by using the coins, a pattern emerges. How does this pattern have anything to do with what is happening in the world? Is this some kind of sorcery? No. There is no occult energy forcing the coins to show one face or the other. It is simply this: all elements of a certain pattern of event, will display that same pattern. This is important; let me say it again. Sherlock Holmes once remarked that a careful reasoner, by contemplating a drop of water, could conceive of a Niagara Falls even if he’d never seen a river. The pattern of the waterfall is inherent in the nature of the drop. Add enough drops together, and have them plunge over a precipice, and there is your cascade.
Have you ever sat near a couple of young boys, who are giggling and horseplaying, perhaps poking or tickling each other? Every experienced parent knows that, once this particular drama gets underway, it leads inevitably to someone getting overstimulated, and going too far, and someone gets hurt, and someone starts to cry. All you have to hear is that certain kind of giggle, and you can see what’s coming, as sure as Rhett is going to leave Scarlett. The giggle does not cause the tears to come; they are just part of the same story.
It doesn’t take a wizard to know there has been an elephant in your refrigerator, when you see elephant tracks in the cheesecake.
So if events have a particular pattern, and they do, and if that pattern is evident in even small details of the event if you know how to look, then the fall of three coins, six times repeated, displays the pattern of events in a particular way.
So, as I often do when entering upon a new undertaking, I threw my coins and I got my lines and I looked them up in the I Ching. And here’s what I received:
Chapter 49: Revolution (Molting)
“The Chinese character for this hexagram means in its original sense an animal's pelt, which is changed in the course of the year by molting. From this the word is carried over to apply to the "moltings" in human life, such as the great revolutions connected with changes of governments.
"Revolutions are extremely grave matters. They should be undertaken only under stress of direst necessity, when there is no other way out. Not everyone is called to this task, but only those who have the confidence of the people, and even then only when the time is ripe. Even so they must proceed in the right way, so that the people are gladdened, and excess is prevented. They must be free of selfish aims and must really relieve the need of the people. Only then do they have nothing to regret.
"Times change, and with them their demands. Thus the seasons change in the course of the year. In the world cycle also there are spring and autumn in the lives of peoples and nations, and these call for social transformations."
I have to say that this struck me profoundly. I know this church is going through a time of change. I know next to nothing about that change, except that an agreement was made a couple of months ago to terminate the association with your minister. While attending the annual business meeting a few weeks ago, I heard a certain amount of discussion of this situation. Imagine my surprise, then, when this particular chapter was displayed before my eyes. I admit that I even felt a certain amount of discomfort. Was this something I really wanted to tackle?
Well, I've never been one to avoid something just because it's difficult. Perhaps the I Ching itself would have something to say that would be worthwhile. When I threw the hexagram, there was one changing line in the third place. Here's what the third line says: "When change is necessary, there are two mistakes to be avoided. One lies in excessive haste and ruthlessness, which bring disaster. The other lies in excessive hesitation and conservatism, which are also dangerous. Not every demand for change in the existing order should be heeded. On the other hand, repeated and well-founded complaints should not fail of a hearing. When talk of change has come to one's ears several times, and has been pondered well, he may believe and acquiesce in it. Then he will accomplish something."
That seems like pretty good advice to me. Excesses of action or inaction always seemed to bring problems along with them. Yet we must be careful of falling victim to what, in Alcoholics Anonymous, is called "analysis paralysis." Fearing an excess of either haste or caution must not prevent one from moving forward in a moderate manner.
We all react differently to change. For some, it is an exciting adventure. For others, it is an unwelcome adversary. Both of these points of view are founded in reality. We have all had changes which have led to good things, and we have all had changes which led to unpleasant things. Neither of these opinions, by itself, is problematic. It is the unbalanced expression of either which can lead to difficulty.
In a situation such as you face here, you will find people who embody both of these approaches. Some will find this an opportunity to move ahead into a new future, to make new discoveries. They will be eager to forge ahead. Others will urge patience; "measure twice, cut once." They will want to move at a snail’s pace.
I would be a gol-danged fool to think I could tell you all what to do. Mama didn't raise no fools, so I'm not about to try. But I will say this:
The most important thing is love. Let those who feel cautious, and those who feel adventurous, not forget to love each other. Respect one another's opinions. Listen to what's being said. Don't be so attached to a particular outcome that you forget the most important outcome of all: A vibrant, happy, loving community of faith. Let those who favor caution, try on a little excitement. Let those who feel more enthusiastic, proceed with restraint. Let no one try to move things along, and let no one try to hold things back, and it will all get done in the fullness of time.
Indulge me, please, in a moment of quiet meditation. And then I would like to close with a vibratory offering which has supported positive, spiritual change since the dawn of time.
“Om Namah Shivaya”
Shanti Shanti Shanti
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